A dreadful wizard he be Set to hang upon high Thoughts of hanging noose and tree To threats of these he will not shy
Confessions he will not make His soul will not plea
Before the magistrates he did stand But the treat was made of stone To lay upon his chest by hand A slow death by crushed brawn and bone
Confessions he will not make His soul will not plea
More and more and more he cried "Lay upon me with your stones" More and more and more he cried "I will never damn my soul"
More and more and more he cried "More and more until I die" More and more and more he cried "I soon to heaven will fly"
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